Someday
by WayLowHalo
Summary: Seven year old Nate Westen knows that he is weak. He knows he will never be as strong as Michael. Kidfic! A look into Michael and Nate's childhood, seen through Nate's eyes.


_**Author's**__** Note**: So I've gotten back into watching _Burn Notice_ lately and have since been thinking about Michael and Nate and the way they grew up. The way Madeline let them grow up. And I do like Madeline. Really, I do. That said, this story... doesn't really portray her in the best light. It bothers me, how she never got them away from their father when they were young. And this... this story is just a quick little look at that, through Nate's prospective (because Nate isn't given enough attention, I don't think). _

**_Disclaimer:_**Burn Notice_ and all it's characters do not and never will belong to me._

**Someday**

Seven year old Nate Westen knows that he is weak.

He knows he will never be as strong as Michael.

He's not trying to make people feel sorry for him or to be self-pitying. It's a fact.

Michael is the strong one.

When their father is beating on Nate, Michael steps between them and takes it.

So Nate doesn't have to.

And Nate never objects. Never tries to stop him.

He knows this makes him weak.

Knows he should step up and try to do the same for Michael.

Should try to protect him, to have Michael's back the way Michael has his.

That's what brothers are for, right?

Michael can take pain so much better than Nate can though; when Nate wants to curl up and sob with the agony of it all Michael just stands there, back ramrod straight, eyes shining with a fierce intensity and Nate knows, he _knows_, he could never be like that.

Knows that's a kind of inner strength that he doesn't have, a kind of strength that's all Michael.

It's not just Nate though, and he knows that too.

Their mother, as much as Nate loves her, and as young as he is he does know – whatever strength is in Michael, whatever makes him the way he is – Madeline doesn't have it either.

So it really isn't just Nate. He isn't the only weak one.

And Michael protects them both.

And their mother, just like Nate, lets him do it.

The fact that's he's only seven doesn't stop Nate from feeling bad about this, doesn't keep him from seeing the unavoidable truth of his own cowardice.

He tries to tell himself that next time… next time he'll protect Michael.

Next time he'll be strong… but then their father will come home… staggering and yelling and drunk… and Nate freezes.

It's not something he's proud of. Just the opposite in fact, but… it happens.

He freezes, and for the life of him he can't make himself move.

And if Michael's home… if Michael's home he steps up to Frank right way and keeps his attention from going to either Nate or Madeline.

While Nate cowers, unable to move from fear, in whatever corner he can find.

_Coward. Weak._

And their mother stands, usually in the kitchen doorway, upset and wringing her hands and pleading for them to stop fighting, for Frank not to hurt Michael.

She doesn't interfere though. Doesn't try to step between them.

Nate is only seven, and what does he know, really, but he thinks that maybe she should.

Maybe someone should protect Michael.

It won't be their mother though.

In his heart Nate knows this.

He can remember a time, when he was younger and smaller than he is now, perhaps five or six, (a lifetime ago, to his seven year old mind) when his father was in one of his rages and started beating on his mother.

Michael had been upstairs in his bedroom and Madeline hadn't cried out for help.

(It will take Nate many years to realize that was Madeline's way of protecting Michael… _not_ crying out, _not_ attracting the attention of her eldest, who _would_ step in and take the beating for her.)

Nate remembers how scared he had been. Frank had been even more unreasonable than usual and he had kept hitting Madeline… again and again and again… and Nate had truly believed he would kill her.

He doesn't remember running to Michael's room. He does remember Michael's face when he got there though, breathless and trembling; urine running down his legs, and Michael had stepped up and gotten between their parents.

Because he was Michael and that was what he did.

Nate remembers that he had hidden under Michael's bed while his older brother had gotten his worst beating to date.

He remembers that Michael had come to him afterward, bloody and bruised, and coaxed him out from under the bed, had cleaned him up and hadn't said a word about the wet stain on the carpet that had been in the process of spreading again when Michael had found him.

Most of all Nate remembers that their mother _hadn't_ been there afterwards. _Hadn't_ taken care of him or Michael.

_Michael_ had protected _her_ and then come back and taken care of Nate before finally tending to himself.

Michael had done it all.

Michael always did it all. And he never complained.

Not once.

Michael was strong. Michael was tough.

Michael took care of him.

Michael was the only real safety, the only real security Nate had.

Michael kept him safe.

Someday, maybe, Nate would be able to return the favor.

Someday, maybe, he wouldn't be so weak.

Someday.

-**End**.


End file.
